Cigarette Daydreams

I knew I needed to get out of bed and go eat something. Doctor Jamison told me that it was the way to recovery. I needed to focus on myself. I needed to better myself. I needed a smoke. I swung my slightly tanned legs over my bed and crawled out my window. I smiled as I felt the familiar dual ache sore throughout my legs as I landed on the rooftop. I lit up a cigarette and took my usual seat on top of the emergency generator that I was fairly certain didn’t work anymore. I took in the beautiful sunset of LA and realized how lucky I was. I inhaled and exhaled.

I needed to get my shit together. I needed to take my life back. I knew all things I needed to do but I just didn’t know the right steps to take. Inhale and exhale. How was I supposed to go from the biggest fuck-up in the Taylor family to what I wanted to be? Therapy. I groaned. I didn’t believe in therapy and I believed in self-medication.

“Yo asshole!” I turned to see Allie hanging her fire-red hair out of my window with a smile on her face.

“Yes?” I yelled hoarsely. I guess I needed to stop smoking too. As if.

“We have company,” I looked at her with a why-would-I-give-two-shits glare and she continued, “I’m hungry for Momma T’s lasagna and you’re the only one who could make it as close to hers.” I laughed knowing that this was Allie’s nice way of telling me I need to eat.

“Coming,” I stubbed out my last cigarette and made my trek back to my window. I climbed back in with a little bit more effort than I’ve ever had to use—what being unconscious for a month does to my stamina. I walked into the kitchen taking in Allen in his work uniform. Allen and I weren’t too close; he was my caffeine dealer who hates it when I call him that. I laughed at myself causing him to give me a weird look.

“Hey Allen! What are you doing here?” Allen and I had some history. We went on a few dates together but we never clicked, he just wasn't my type. We did, however, remained good friends but not good enough of friends for him to show up in my apartment, unannounced.

“Allie told me you were making lasagna,” he chuckled. I glared at Allie who looked at me sheepishly. I swear Allie and her medaling. I know Allen did a lot to help out Allie while I was in the hospital and I also know he was the one that came up with the idea of the two guys singing to me. So I kind of owe him my life or whatever—but that doesn’t mean I wanted to date him.

“Did she now?” I sent Allie one more glare before I started prepping dinner. Thankfully Allie got the low-calorie version of everything I needed. There is no way I would have been able to eat this had she not. I started the hot water and skillet for the ground turkey. I noticed Allen slip in our tiny kitchen with a glass of red wine—what I would do for some whisky.

“Hey Erin, I’m so happy to see you doing so much better.” He gave me a real happy smile and I knew I couldn’t respond like a bitch. The road to recovery.

“Thanks Allen.” I stopped what I was doing and turn towards him looking at him in his large green eyes. “I never got to thank you for everything you did to help me out. I know things between us never really worked out but it really means a lot to me that you care so much.” I surprised him and myself by giving him a hug. I wasn’t a touchy-feely person but he needed to know how much his persistence meant to me.

“I would do anything for you Erin. Please don’t ever forget that.” He smiled before exiting and letting me get back to what I was doing. It made me think I liked his arms around me. I missed his comfort.

God. I’m a mess.



I was one minute late. ONE DAMN MINUTE, and this physiatrist who is probably only a physiatrist because med school was too hard for her, was threatening to send me to an institution.

“Time management is a high priority of mine, Erin.” She gave me such a condescending look. Wasn’t she supposed to treat her patients nice or something? I mean I know my parents aren’t paying her to yell at me.

“Mine too. I’m sorry I got lost,” we both knew I wasn’t really sorry nor did I care that I was late. So the bitch just sighed and started writing on her yellow legal pad—how original.

“So tell me what’s on your mind,” I looked at her like she was stupid. The best damn therapist in all of LA and she cant even think of a question to ask me.

“Uh, what?” I asked confused. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me questions?”

“Therapy works in different ways. I find the most effective to be when patients just talk to me and tell me what’s on their mind.”

“I don’t have much on my mind.” I told her truthfully.

“Nothing?” She looked at me tapping her pen, “there must be something. Or we are going to have more problems.”

I sighed getting frustrated, “Cant you just start by asking me a question please?” I begged not knowing what to say or talk about.

“Tell me were it all started,” She led off knowing that I would understand her question. I’ve been asked this question so many times it hurts, by my mom, by Allie, by Allen, hell I’m sure even the mailman asked me.

“Uh—I guess when I was fifteen.” I nodded.

“That seems pretty young.”

“Yeah well I didn’t really plan on getting sexually assaulted.” I shot back with venom laced in my words expecting her to react, but she didn’t.

“Go on,” she singled for me to continue.

“He was a friend of a friend. He got me drunk and took advantage of me.” I shrugged like it was no big deal—but it was. It hurt me in more ways than one. My therapist nodded at for me to continue.

“Is that what drawled you into drugs?

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I mean I felt so confused after. I didn’t know whom I could trust and whom I couldn’t. I told a good friend at the time and she didn’t believe me, she told me that it wasn’t rape because I wanted it.” I looked away from her out the window. “I was fifteen. I didn’t want that. I guess I just started drinking and smoking weed at first to make myself feel better and to make myself forget, but when I started gaining weight I switched to pills because they made me lose my appetite.”

“Did you have a problem with your appearance?” Doesn't every teenager?

“I guess I didn’t, but he did.”

“Who is he?”

“Kyle, my rapist.” Saying the words out loud made the situation so surreal. I never told anyone his name, not even Allie.

“He had a problem with you gaining weight?”

“He would continue to use me, I guess.” I shifted in my seat. “He had this video of me, and I was, well I was naked.” She nodded like she understood. “So I did whatever he wanted me too because I didn’t want that video getting out there. I wanted to be a doctor and join a sorority. That video would have killed any chance of either of those.” I explained quickly hoping she would understand. Her timer dinged and the hour went by faster than I was expecting.

“That was a good session, Erin.” I nodded towards her gathering my things. “I will see you next week at 11,” she emphasized the time as if I would dare be late again. “We will pick up were we left off.”

I headed down the flight of stairs opting out of taking the elevator and I busted open the doors leading out of stairwell running into someone. My purse went flying and their coffee went right down my white shirt—well shit.

“I’m—fuck I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed trying to gather all of my belongings from my purse while also trying to save the remainder of his coffee. He looked up to me and I was shock to see those brown eyes, the same ones that were burned into my brain after seeing them in my hospital room.

He laughed at my obvious flustered face, “so I take it you’re a fan? You didn’t need to run right into me.”

My embarrassed face was quickly replaced by one of anger, “um no. I have no idea who you are actually. Let alone that you are ‘famous’.” I snatched up my purse digging for a few ones.

“Sorry, I just assumed since you seemed a bit flustered.”

“Well when you fucking run into someone who wasn’t paying attention, you end up a bit flustered.”

“Wha--? I’m sorr—“ I continued to shake my head realizing how stupid I must of look to him.

I found four ones and I shoved them in his hand, “for your coffee that is now on my shirt.” I turned and started to walk away towards my jeep. I could hear him jogging to catch up with me, which didn’t take very long seeing as that I’m 5’2 and my legs could only carry me so far.

“Sorry if I offended you, I just thought that you were a fan.” He shrugged like it was no big deal and I felt myself growing hot from embarrassment again.

“No, no, no you just looked so familiar.” I shrugged deciding not to tell him that he sang to me in the hospital. Or that at first I thought he was an angel.

He smiled and held out his hand, “I’m Alex.” I smiled and shook his hand.

“I’m Erin.” There was something in my gut telling me he already knew me like I knew him, but I didn't push it. How does one forget such a dramatic moment? I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell. I wanted a smoke.